Grandparents we heed for years and always know
Elders mistakenly disparaged and derided
Welders of life why families are mended
Or whom we never had, to honor and yow
Why do you cry at small stuff?
How can you do this common thing so rough?
Stay silent everything is not to be told,
You just learn to stay bold.
Isn't it unfair that we have to pretend to be normal?
It's not always that we have to look formal.
Sometimes we have to show the side that is hidden,
Is keeping everything in heart somewhere written.
It's okay to burst out into tears ,
Don't ever feel the pressure by your peers.
It's okay to mistakenly sometimes do wrong task,
It shows your courage to properly ask.
Then why do we ask everybody to be normal and pretend to be glad?
Showing sadness is not at all bad,
It's a common attribute for a human that is earned,
Being NORMAL is a lie that we have always learnt.
Is this feeling an illusion,
something my mind conjured up
in its confusion,
because
I've longed for so long
to feel love's inclusion
in my life.
Have I developed
a sweet melody with
the strings of my heart
and mistakenly called it 'love'?
For so long,
I've longed to know
an undying love,
a comforting love,
an overpowering love
to live in the very depths
of my soul.
I wonder had my desperation
overtaken what's left of my sanity?
Is this feeling an illusion,
something my mind conjured up
in its confusion,
because my heart
has been longing for the fusion
of harmony and serenity?
I've waited for an eternity
to find someone to love.
But in my desperation
have I created an illusion,
an unreality,
a vision that only exists
in my mind,
and I call it 'love'?
To share an unconditional love,
an imperfect,
yet perfect love for me
is all I ever wanted.
But has my exasperation
overtaken
what's left of my sanity,
and now I'll settle for anything,
even if it's an illusion?
.
In Germany's dusk, the fourteenth century fell
Disorder in the shadows, and village anger will swell
Where towns blossomed once, now chaos reigned
All rights tangled, privileges weren’t gained
Classes divided, old alliances torn
Princes and estates where conflict was born
Fields and workshops, commerce and trade
All swept up in strife that no one could evade
Country folk suffered, their fortunes declined
Feuds and famine ominously combined
Villages vanished only names remain
Echoes of lives lost to hunger and pain
Unrest and lawlessness, violence and fear
Only the strong could persevere
No ruler to unify, no guiding hand
Germany's turmoil swept across the land
So peaked the chaos the harbingers said
The way of order whimpered and fled
They would not do the same in The Western Land
They learned from how Germany had mistakenly band
I keep the pair of socks he never wore again
After he mistakenly taken mine instead.
I felt for him, but he didn't care for my pain.
I just wonder if I was ever truly in his head.
I keep a bangle as an exception for jewellery,
After another lover gave it to me generously.
I felt for him, but we lacked true chemistry.
I just wonder if I ever did love him fully.
I keep his lighter, our metaphorical fire,
After I mistakenly pocketed it after using it.
I feel for him, but I'm afraid love may expire.
I just wonder if we will grow more, bit by bit.
I keep objects from my objects of affection,
As I remember all the memories we share.
I felt for all, but I was met with deflection.
All but one lets me show how much I care.
I plucked the moon from the sky last night.
No one else seemed to be using it
So, I thought, “Why not?”
I mistakenly thought it would fit comfortably in my pocket
But, it bulged, protruded, and made it difficult to sit!
“Stupid moon!
What good are you?” I grumbled.
A TV news anchor rattled on about
Potential collapsed ecosystems, climate chaos, and mass extinctions.
All around me
Would-be lovers unraveled their arms and parted ways and
Dreamers no longer looked to the sky.
“The world has gone mad,” I muttered.
“But, at least I have this shiny rock, even if it IS a pain in the rear.”
However, it kept tugging, pulling, and wouldn’t stay still.
Determining it not worth the trouble,
I relinquished the object to the night
And went to dwell in a crazy world.
MOUSE HOUSE*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In my shoe, I found quite a sight,
a small mouse, with fur soft and light.
He twitched and he squeaked,
as I gasped and I freaked,
Then we both took off running in fright!
*This poem is written in memoriam and dedicated to the field mouse who mistakenly decided our garage would be a cool place to wait out summer's heat.
Radically erroneous monotheists
have mistakenly substituted
our co-infested
co-operative
co-invested
co-empathic pantheistic HolySpirit's
naturally healthy
resonant EarthTribal bodhisattva powers
of polyculturing communion love and peace
for messianically monoculturing luster
and loneliness
unnaturally unhealthy
irreligiously irritating dissonance
degeneratively devilish
and idolatrous
and disrapturously ecocidal
false-god demonic
anthro-supremacist power
Struggling to survive
against Othered
fundamentally erroneous monotheists.
Delusion manifests as a thought form,
which we mistakenly take to be ours,
whereby arises a need to conform
but the taste of the fruit over time sours,
with ego seeking magical powers.
Though dreams within dreams in this way replay,
detached from outcomes, the pure of heart play.
When you are too cool,
And we are dangerously fool!
When you are too good,
And we are mistakenly rude!
When you are going to forgive,
And we are going to dive in the ocean of deceitful bliss!
When you erroneously allow us to speak,
And we are going to attack you at your peak!
You call us "the collaborators",
You kill us by the disgraceful gladiators,
You keep us safe by biased words,
You provide us bliss with the disguised curse.
Until you live long in the blissful hell,
Until you confine us in the glorious jail,
Until you can be refined in your guilty conscience,
Until you rebuke us for our misguided sense.
We are united as your crown is denied,
We are guilty as you are still our guide.
We are ashamed that we didn't know our mind,
That is why you can still rule us and deride.
There is no need to apologize for the things you mistakenly forget to do
What type of person would I be to make a mockery of patience and virtue?
You did right with direct condolences, which most would seldom bother to do
A smile means more than a fork and spoon; the steak needed the rest in my humblest of view
Feelings of appreciation are my hope for the rest of your evening after reading this; my gratitude is for all that you do
Mistakenly believing we’re body-mind,
bewildered by fear and enslaved by desire,
we fail to see head and heart are not aligned
with love, so the objects we seek to acquire,
fixates attention, gripping us in a bind,
consigning our soul to the funeral pyre.
Adding to our woes is conditioned belief,
which unless undone, will give us no relief.
In the void of cessation, we’re always free
but presence soon returns to habit routine,
caged in turbid tempests, tied to our mind tree,
borne of heart’s dark desires, not easy to wean,
unless with soft whispers of love we agree,
for it’s then that the truth unseen may be seen.
Making thus in staid stillness, love our soul’s scribe,
we imbibe divine bliss, mind cannot describe.
My pain doesn’t decorate me like precious gems
It’s a raggedy noose around my neck
That I can’t stop tugging
My scars aren’t displayed as badges of honour
They’re fetid rotted wounds
That I won’t stop picking at
My experiences weren’t lessons for growth
They’re barbs of poisonous shame
That I flagellate myself with daily
Mistakenly I thought that I’d let go
Confused, yet I thought I’d grown and improved
Tender thoughts and hands to myself I must use
Myre's Mire - Horror Poetry
they wanted my eyes
they wanted to see what I had seen
they longed to see what I had seen
to know how I laid bare my step
on sugar path
on foaming hill
in raging twist
against the wind
to throw my stones across the land
to walk, as I, deluded
there was a house of wood and stone
a sign outside
its name, my dream
and know not I why this I saw
scratched in by nails
fingers raw
read 'Myre's Mire'
bloodied
within that house lived all the world
lived everyone who'd ever lived
breathed everyone who'd ever breathed
and wait, they sat in harmony
while I, outside
dare not go in
was I outside mistakenly?
they wanted my eyes
they wanted to see what I had seen
and all the creatures they'd become
could walk, as I, elated
Imagine!!
Spending each day of your very limited life.
Communicating only at one poetry site?
They only respond to those who read them?
How selfish~ radioactive poets, ahem!
They’d drop atom bombs on people’s delicate souls.
People you believed that cared, have turned to coal!
Theirs acts are so specious, so some poets absolutely will fold.
They were foolish to believe, that you had a heart of gold.
We never know what situation in life another poet faces.
Gods of letters, we, drop them from our good graces?
Those who shared their hearts with you…
Mistakenly, you thought, were a friend that was true?
Life is chock full of painful, great lessons to learn.
They won’t kill you…enjoy the warm heartburn!!
Ignorant punches will never, ever get you down.
They give you strength and dignity to carry on.
So pen…but never necessarily to please.
Godspeed! Now rise, get off your knees!
Great poets pen of things that matter to them!
Of hope and fantasy, and each night, whisper, Amen!
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